


A Future as Bright as a Gunshot

by Greenninjagal



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Death, F/M, Fitz is too good for this world, Garrett is an ass, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Season one Episode 17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 18:17:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14062659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greenninjagal/pseuds/Greenninjagal
Summary: The first time Leopold Fitz had ever heard of the idea of a clairvoyant he was excited. He shouldn’t have been.~~Aka Season One Episode Seventeen Ends completely differently due to bad timing.





	A Future as Bright as a Gunshot

The first time Leopold Fitz had ever heard of the idea of a clairvoyant he was excited. He shouldn’t have been, because the clairvoyant was an enemy, an asshole, and a headache all rolled into one mysterious voice-- a message passed along from mouth to mouth. Those had been the words that Ian Quinn foreshadowed Skye’s death in, that Rena dedicated her flower filled dresses to. The Clairvoyant had been picking at them from all sides trapping them like rats in a maze where none of them could see the end. He shouldn’t have been excited to think of someone who could see the future, and certainly not excited to see someone who chased a future where they were all dead.

 

But in the end it wasn’t a real clairvoyant at all, was it? Because there was no such thing as a future set in stone, no such thing as seeing that future at all. You didn’t have to have powers to box the agents of Shield into a corner because they were all humans anyway.

 

They made mistakes. They trusted the wrong people.

 

Once upon a time Fitz had a badge that he treasured. A shiny eagle that he had held up to the light to get a better look at, grinning like an overeager five year old before Christmas morning. A badge that was nothing but a piece of metal: a badge that meant the world to him because it meant he was going to do something with his life.

 

His father was wrong. Fitz was going to be useful, powerful. He was going to create something that would change the world.

 

Back then he had put blinds over the windows of his lab, because who needed the outside when he could do everything right here in the safety of his lab? But Jemma had removed them, and explained with her posh accent how he needed to see the world he was changing. 

 

Jemma, Biochemistry, his best friend, who had taken him by the hand since they had been in the academy together, who had pried into his introverted shell and made a real person out of the shadow he use to be, who had looked at him with the stars in her eyes, file in her hand, and said “Fitz, let’s change the world!”

 

Once upon a time, he had found a place to call home: A plane that moved from place to place, where he could see the world, and where he could meet people who they could help. He let Jemma tug all his heartstrings until he was out there in the open; she had made him vulnerable and he let her because it was Jemma and she’d never lead him astray. 

 

And she hadn’t. She had shown him the way to a bright and shining future. A family: A cold hearted woman who had been keeping secrets from them all, A hacker who erased herself to protect herself, A soldier who could take control of any situation with a single gun, and a man who died and came back to life. 

 

The Clairvoyant didn’t need any powers to know how much they had trusted each other. How much Fitz had trusted them. Even when everything was falling apart, even when Skye had ripped apart the tangled webs to uncover Hydra, even when someone from HQ had ordered them shot from the clouds. Fitz knew he could look into each other their eyes and he’d be proud to die alongside them.

 

He didn’t want to die.

 

_ “I never mentioned that.” _

 

Coulson’s voice was not confused. It was acknowledging. Fitz didn’t even know what he had meant at first. His mind had been a million miles ahead in the plan when he was side-by-side with Simmons and he could think clearly, when he could breathe without feeling like the world was going to slip from under his feet.

 

_ “I never said Rena had been in the Machine...”  _

 

It’s not until the then that Ftiz realised something was wrong. His hands were shaking from worry, from thinking of Simmons and her startling blue eyes, thinking of what Garrett said so carelessly because he didn’t know her the way Fitz did. Simmons would never let herself be captured by Hydra, she’d never let herself be forced into the same machine that had nearly destroyed Coulson. Simmons was strong like that, resourceful. 

 

“ _ I never told that to anybody!” _

 

Fitz’s breathe caught in his chest. 

 

_ “That’s exactly what I did….I walked you right in there with me.” _

 

Fitz had never seen that type of face on Coulson before but he knows the tone. It’s the same tone he took when they thought May had been a mole: it’s betrayal, slathered in a heavy weight that made Fitz take another step back. Coulson who had been more of a father figure than anyone Fitz had ever known, was standing there with sharp eyes and a set jaw ready to fight.

 

Garrett stared at him, looked down, and wet his lips. “Damnit.”

 

It felt like someone had punched him. 

 

The doors flung open, and the shield specialists flooded in, armed to the teeth with weapons. Fitz had his arms in the air before they were even in the room. He wasn’t sure where his breath was coming from.

 

_ “Take Agent Garrett into custody! He’s the murderer they call the Clairvoyant. He’s a traitor!” _

 

If Garrett was the Clairvoyant, did that mean their whole operation was compromised? Did that mean that Ward and Skye were going into a trap?

 

“Gentlemen, I know Agent Sitwell was in charge of filling your ranks so at least a few of you know what to do in this situation.”

 

Fitz had seen people get shot before. He created the guns that Ward used, he maybe once or twice shot a gun himself. 

 

“Anytime boys.”

 

It’s entirely different watching good men, good shield agents getting shot in the backs of their heads by people they thought they could trust. Fitz counted the bullets, but they all came at once, with sparks of orange light and sound of a firecracker. 

 

He wanted it to be a dream, he wanted it to be a mistake. But Coulson was staring at them, the men who had been alive seconds ago as if he could see their ghosts leaving their bodies with all the screams of purgatory. 

 

Garrett merely smirked, as if life and death were his play thing, and his words were colder than ice, “Hail Hydra.”

 

Handcuffs weren’t made to be comfortable. Fitz had never thought criminals deserved a comfort when wearing them anyway. He had also never thought he’d end up wearing a pair one day.

 

He’d never been good with words, so he doesn’t say a thing. Not to the faceless Hydra agent who puts them on him, not to Garrett who paces in front of them like he isn’t sure what present he wants to open first. 

 

This is the same man who they had saved earlier, who they had let board their plane when HQ had ordered them both shot down. This is the same man who had Fitz had almost trusted to have his back.

 

_ “So those three men in your unit...I guess they asked the wrong questions.” _

 

Those men who probably trusted Garrett as much Fitz had trusted Coulson. Dead. All of them were dead. 

 

“Until now it was all about keeping the secret.” Garrett said like it was some big grand announcement. Justification for killing so many people. He wasn’t icy or evil: he was still the same guy who had come in with them, had come on a suicide mission to stop Hydra and save Simmons.

 

“Are you going to kill us?” The words tumble from his mouth before he can stop them, before Fitz can figure out if he wants to know of not. Because he already does know doesn’t he? Those men on the ground knew. There’s a gun right in his face right now. He knows the safeties off, he knows the only thing between him and the end of him is the words of the monster in front of them. 

 

He can’t remember what the last thing he said to Simmons was. They were on an encrypted line that had been breaking up. He could have said anything to her about skye’s blood, about the encryption, about the way he missed her so much he couldn’t think as well without her there beside him.

 

“That wasn’t my plan really.” Garrett sighed, “If I was, I could have done that anytime I wanted to.” 

 

It’s the truth that hits the hardest. Almost like a physical blow to his chest. Fitz squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his tongue against his gritted teeth. To Stabilize himself, to bare the pain, whatever. Fitz could feel the burn in his eyes, trying not to cry, trying not to lose hope.

 

“Nah, Phil and I go way back.” Garrett goes on, turning away from Fitz because he’s no longer as significant as the man who cheated death. He had almost forgotten that the whole time the Clairvoyant hadn’t just been terrorizing them; it had been searching for why Coulson was still alive. “Back to when Fury was teaching us tactics. Clearing corners, slicing the pie...remember Phil?”

 

Phil Coulson looked like he was going to slice right through Garrett. But his hands were cuffed, and he didn’t have a knife, and there were two guns trained on him. “Fury would bury you for this.”

 

Garrett nods, “Probably. Instead he’ll just….have to roll over in his grave. He must have uncovered our secret. Top brass did what they had to do.” 

 

Director Fury was dead. The man who held all the secrets, who dealt with decisions on the fate of the world every day: contained in a four letter word: dead. It didn’t make sense on some level, that a man who dedicated to saving the world could end up buried in it by the people he might have trusted. It didn’t make sense that Jemma had taken his hand and they had run towards a bright future that had somehow ended up like this.

 

_ “For Hydra? You really believe all that all that crap? Spreading death and destruction?” _

 

Garrett frowned as if Coulson had hurt his feelings, “I wouldn’t say I’m a true believer. Let’s just say i felt the wind changing and I swung my sail.” He looked up at Coulson again with the face of a friend, “You really should too.”

 

_ “I would die before serving Hydra, you sick son of a bitch.” _

 

The Friendliness disappeared in a cross of Garrett’s arms, “I hate to tell you, but you’ve been serving Hydra all along.” 

 

Fitz clenched his hands into fists, goosebumps rode his arms.

 

“I guess death really is the only alternative.” Garrett went on, “It’s a sad thing, Phil. I considered you a friend. I was happy when I heard you made it through.”

 

_ “So happy you had me tortured for three days to find out how they did it?” _

 

“I didn’t enjoy that! Really this is me being honest!”

 

_ “No John,”  _ Coulson said with the quick tongue Fitz had always admired,  _ “This is you being a psychopath.” _

 

Garrett dipped his head in surrender and he turned towards May. Her silence was dark, promising murder if they gave her even an inch. Fitz could feel his knees wobbling like jello, but May didn’t even look a bit uncomfortable.

 

“I know you would follow him to the grave so…” Garrett turned away from her and it was everything Fitz could do not to drop to the ground right there. His chest heaved.

 

“As for you agent Fitz,--” It felt like he had been stabbed but there was no knife. “--you’ll hold a very high rank on our tech division if you volunteer. If not… you’ll have no rank and a lot of pain. Of course either way, your services will be required.”

 

Once upon a time Jemma had taken him by the hand-- he could still feel it, her touch, which was like electricity flowing between them, the warmth of her by his side, the ease of which she understood exactly what he was thinking. 

 

His tears felt like ice on his burning cheeks. “You’re going to suffer for what you’ve done.” He said, “And I-- I can’t be apart of that.” 

 

Not with knowing how Jemma would look at him, not with knowing that he’d be hurting so many people, no with knowing he’d betray the only people he’d ever cared for.

 

Garrett laughed like he made a joke, punching him in the arm like they were friends. His grin was unnerving. Fitz tenses wishing he never liked science at all, wishing Hydra would never need a scientist, wishing, wishing, wishing.

 

“I like you kid” Garrett said, and he turned his back to them all. “Alright!” He addressed his men, “Let them have it! Oh, but shoot that one in the kneecaps.”

 

The first time Leopold Fitz had ever heard of the idea of a clairvoyant he was excited. He shouldn’t have been because there was no such thing as a Clairvoyant, as anyone who could see the future, bright or otherwise. He shouldn’t have been because he had other things to worry about such as how he was going to find the courage tell Jemma how he felt. He shouldn’t have because the Clairvoyant took everything he had ever cared about--

 

He’d never stop seeing the way Coulson had stepped in front of him, his hands braced over his chest-- as if that could save him again, as if he could protect Fitz-- with his eyes facing forward full of dread and guilt.

 

May charged forward screaming because she always promised to go out fighting. She was fast, Fitz always knew this. Fast and dangerous. She knocked one of the Hydra agents back, grabbing the barrel of his gun and pulling it free from his grip. She doesn’t get a chance to use it.

 

_ “I’m sorry,” _ Coulson whispered.

 

Fitz screamed and he screamed until he couldn’t hear himself, until he couldn’t hear them, until he couldn’t remember what a gunshot sounded like. 

 

They dragged him out of that room a mangled broken mess and it had nothing to do with the blood flowing out of his legs or the pain that carved into his brain. He sobbed and screamed and-- and-- and--

 

The charges blew The building shook and the lights flickered before they plunge the room into darkness. Fitz doesn’t know what he’s doing.

 

But he does. Because once upon a time he designed the gun that Ward loved so much. Once upon a time he had played with the weight of it, the ease of the trigger, the click of the safety.

 

He doesn’t want to do it.

 

But he does.

 

Hydra is distracted. The agent on his left lowers his guard at the sudden absence of light. It’s too late for the plan. It’s all over. Fitz-- he doesn’t need both hands to take it.

 

Once upon a time a dark haired scientist with the most dazzling blue Fitz had ever seen had seen him and she had taken him by the hand, made him her best friend, taught him how to love himself and then how to love her. She had said, “Let’s change the world, Fitz!”

 

“I’m sorry, Jemma,” He whispered, “but not like this.” 

 

The room is not silent.


End file.
